


There's Glitter on the Floor

by LadyOfTheOldWorld



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar I Disorder, Connected to The Forgotten, Detox, Hanbee is a Good Boyfriend, Hospitalization, Hungover Juuzou is a Bitch, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Juuzou Gives No Shits, M/M, Manic Episode, Manic Juuzou, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Suicide Attempts, Prescription Drug Use, Self-Medication, Shinohara is a Good Dad, Shinohara's wife is a Good Mom, Strong Language, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Unreliable Narrator, reckless behaviour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-18 14:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11876364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfTheOldWorld/pseuds/LadyOfTheOldWorld
Summary: Concurrent with and extending after Kaneki's struggles inThe Forgotten, Juuzou deals with his own demons.





	1. The Animal Comes Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hamliet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamliet/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Forgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675134) by [Hamliet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamliet/pseuds/Hamliet). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summary should explain itself, as should the tags. These tags aren't a joke. Stay safe, lovelies. Title/chapter titles come from Kesha's _Take It Off_. Juuzou is an unreliable narrator, but Hanbee is less so. Takes place after the end of The Forgotten, and sometime following the Halloween Kiss during the one-shot sequel, Haunted. That said, the Underage Drinking/Drug Use tags apply to Juuzou, as he's seventeen and a senior at Re Academy in this chapter.

Sex on the Beach always made Juuzou laugh.

Not the actual act, no – he and Hanbee were still figuring things out between them – but the drink. The drink was sweet and fruity, and bright fucking pink. His favorite version was mostly vodka, honestly. Out of all the alcohols, vodka went to his head the most quickly, making things fuzzy around the edges and his body feel light and almost ethereal. The buzzing usually started at his fingertips, and slowly spread along with warmth throughout the rest of him. Paired with the usual heady feeling of mania running rampant throughout his system, Sex on the Beach was just what he needed to get a night started. Of course, it wasn’t all that he drank; it was never quite enough to get him to where he usually wanted to be. Watermelon or Jolly Rancher vodka helped to reach the highs that he was looking for, along with one or four of the antidepressants he was supposed to be taking. And yet, even when he reached those highs, Juuzou was far from done. No, his night was just beginning.

Strawberry lemonade vodka always helped the highs go higher, and made everything seem hilarious. Even the thought of being caught by Shinohara while completely blackout drunk and high was hilarious. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it be the last. Malibu cocktails and strawberry daiquiris were consumed until a match could have set Juuzou’s blood on fire, along with more of the antidepressants. Mania pushed him ever onward, and honestly, it wasn’t a hard thing to convince him of. Time blurred into liquid, and all sense of knowing he should be afraid of getting caught dissipated. Cosmopolitans and blue Hawaiians sent him careening forward, looking for a certain tall, dark-haired, and anxious partner of his. Mojito in hand and half gone between the time he spotted whom he was looking for and crossing the space to corner him, Juuzou grinned widely up at Hanbee. Tugging insistently at dark hair, the petit male brought him down hard for a kiss.

Hanbee broke away quickly, and would have reeled back in alarm at the potency of the alcohol on Juuzou’s breath, if he hadn’t still been held firmly in place. Despite his height and delicate appearance, Juuzou was strong… and when he was drunk, he seemed all the stronger. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. When Juuzou was drunk, Hanbee tended to treat him with kid gloves, knowing that all of his partner’s inhibitions (few as they were) were nullified and gone. Especially when he knew that Juuzou’s recklessness was fueled by his mood disorder, the mania inherent to Bipolar I that Juuzou refused to properly medicate what drove him in this state. Deciding that he had better intervene before anything worse happened – he still remembered vividly a drunk and high and _manic_ Juuzou screaming that he could fly and throwing himself off the tallest roof he could be bothered to find – Hanbee drew his companion close to him again, going in for another kiss even though it was the last thing he wanted.

Juuzou willingly left with him, Hanbee refusing to feel guilty about tricking him; tomorrow would be Hell.

* * *

 

Tomorrow, as Hanbee had predicted, was Hell.

Juuzou had eventually passed out after what passed for ten minutes of making out, and the taller of the two had wasted no time in calling Shinohara. The dorm parent deserved to know, but more than that, the man that was basically Juzou’s father had a right to know, lest he worry himself to distraction _not_ knowing. _Well_ , Hanbee reasoned with a wince, seated in an uncomfortable plastic chair beside an all-too-familiar hospital bed, _Shinohara would worry himself to distraction anyway_. That was just what the gentle man _did_ whenever Juuzou was involved, especially when it came to his child’s escapades with alcohol and self-medicating. It was a vicious cycle, one that only Juuzou himself could break. His medication would help, and he would start feeling better. Then he would stop taking it, and mania would swing him into insanity for weeks/months on end. Eventually Juuzou would crash and burn, and end up detoxing or recovering from a suicide attempt/mania-induced stupidity in the hospital. And then the cycle started over again.

A sharp whine brought Hanbee from his thoughts. Juuzou was coming to, and since the staff hadn’t wanted to add to the potentially deadly cocktail already in his system, he was doing so completely at the mercy of his hangover and crash from being crossfaded. Shinohara was currently gone, having gone back to Re to pick up the food his wife had made for Juuzou, likely in anticipation of and to help with his hangover. (She worried just as much as her husband did about her pseudo-adopted son, and refused to subject him to hospital food.) Dull red eyes fluttered open for a moment, and Hanbee found himself wincing yet again, this time at the sound that his partner made in reaction to the bright fluorescent lights. He could only imagine that it was utter agony, but he wasn’t allowed to turn them off, for whatever reason. Leaning close, he gently stroked his fingers over Juuzou’s sharp cheekbone to brush away a smear of glitter, almost floored once again by just how deathly pale the petit male was.

"…Time is it?" The words came slightly slurred, but with an undercurrent of pain behind them.

After quickly checking his watch, Hanbee murmured, "Just after six in the morning."

"…Hospital?" Juuzou probably already knew, but this was their usual song-and-dance by now.

"I called Shinohara after you passed out." He kept his voice soft in deference to his companion’s headache.

Red eyes finally managed to open and stay that way, as Juuzou hauled himself up into a sitting position. He may not have been able to feel pain, but the acute ache of a hangover was a special sort of hurt that not even years of torture could completely numb someone to. "…Did I throw up on you, again?"

Well, at least his words were coming clearer, now. "Not this time, no… but you did narrowly miss Shinohara."

Juuzou snorted in amusement, and then immediately winced. "...Where’s he?"

"His wife made you some food, so he stepped out to go pick it up."

Nodding jerkily, the paler teen ran a hand through mussed shoulder-length white hair, making it stick up even more. "…You gonna stay with me, this time?"

The deviation from their established script gave Hanbee a moment’s pause. "…Will it be the last?" He regretted the question the moment it was out of his mouth, but could do nothing but watch the fall out.

Red eyes narrowed, gaze sharp. Juuzou turned pain into annoyance, annoyance into irritation, and irritation into a weapon. " _Excuse me_?" He hissed the words, voice digging into his taller partner like shards of glass.

Hanbee was nothing if not determined, even if he knew exactly where this was going. "You’re going to end up dead, Juuzou, _please_ … stop."

"Everyone dies, Hanbee, but not everyone lives," Juuzou spat back at him, anger curling back his lips in an expression that was half snarl, half sneer.

"How can you call this _living_?" He was desperate to help him, and Juuzou knew it, but that wouldn’t make any difference. Mania’s delusions made villains of everyone, but especially those that cared.

Shinohara arrived back just in time for Juuzou to scream at Hanbee – " _GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE_!" – and for Hanbee to scurry away.

Again, though Hanbee would be back, it was down to Juuzou’s father to pick up the pieces.


	2. Tonight I Don't Give a Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during chapters 20 (Falling Apart), 21 (But You Want To), and the beginning parts of 22 (Targeted) of _The Forgotten_. I didn't intend to write more, but talking with Hamliet always gets my creative side working. Also, things didn't quite end the way they're presented here. Juuzou's perception of time is fractured, hence the Unreliable Narrator tag.

"Go to the dance with me?"

Juuzou blinked, reality seeming to meet up with the speed of his brain for once. Hanbee was looking at him and – was that pink, tinging the taller boy’s cheeks? The cafeteria continued to bustle around them, the ravenette fidgeting with his napkin and looking more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment that Juuzou failed to answer. For just a moment longer, he let him linger.

"Sure," he finally answered, right when Hanbee seemed ready to blurt out something to recant his offer.

Hanbee looked relieved and off-balance all at once. Juuzou found that hilarious, and so laughed, careless of how anyone might react. So what if it was unkind to leave his one friend hanging? Hanbee didn’t mind, so it was fine. Still… a grin curled Juuzou’s lips, as he jumped up to head out of the cafeteria, neither having gotten nor eaten anything. (And why should he? Food was boring, unless it was sweet, and even then…)

"By the way, I’ll be wearing a dress~!" he tossed over his shoulder, Hanbee blushing behind him.

* * *

Juuzou spent the rest of the day sliding around campus, changing where he was every so often, only slightly concerned about getting caught. Classes were easy to skip, and as for his session with Furuta… well. Whenever he thought of a therapist, a woman with dark purple hair and violet eyes came to mind, and a distinctly uncomfortable, sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Better to avoid the whole mess entirely, not least because the creep would find some way to force him to take his meds, and that was honestly the last thing Juuzou wanted.

Later, the girls convened to practice for the dance, and Juuzou spent most of the evening listening to their music. Homework was bullshit, and when his head was going at Mach 2 compared to the rest of reality, everything was bullshit. Living was also bullshit, but he decided that putting anything permanent off until after the dance was an alright idea. …Wait. He told Hanbee that he’d be wearing a dress… he didn’t currently have any feminine clothing. This was a problem.

It took him all of half an hour, but eventually Juuzou got up and dragged himself downstairs. It was close to lights out, dangerously close, but he didn’t care. Something warm settled inside of him, bringing things slightly into better focus, when Shinohara’s wife answered the door and smiled at him. She was perfectly willing, it turned out, to allow him to borrow one of her older dresses, so long as he didn’t mind it was a more conservative style. Apparently, they had a similar coloring, even though they had different colored hair and eyes. Juuzou didn’t understand it, but whatever. As long as she helped and didn’t say anything unkind, even though he had a feeling that she wouldn’t.

The dress that Mrs. Shinohara settled on, after sizing Juuzou up against her closet, was simple but pretty. It had a knee-length hem, three-quarter sleeves, and a round neckline. Despite the conservative style, however, the cut was flattering, highlighting what Juuzou supposed were his ‘good’ attributes – a slender waist and a dainty, boyish figure – while drawing the eye away from what he didn’t have. Namely, breasts, though he did notice that even Mrs. Shinohara was more petite and willowy than curvaceous and busty… The bodice almost resembled a corset, and the material was a soft stain/silk combination, feeling almost like water against his skin. Black lace edged around the hem, the ends of the sleeves, and at the collar, while the color of the dress itself – a deep blue – offset his pale skin nicely, rather than making it seem ghostly and sickly.

Ballet flats rather than heels were selected, and when Juuzou saw himself… well. It felt different than he expected. Not at all like Rei; all he felt like was himself, and it was… oddly comforting. (The violet-eyed woman and the words _genderfluidity is perfectly valid_ flash in his mind.) Maybe if the world weren’t going so slow, or if his head weren’t going so fast, he might feel sad. As it stood, all he felt was giddy, even if distantly he acknowledged that that wasn’t really the right response. He promised Mrs. Shinohara that he’d let her do his make-up before leaving.

* * *

When Hanbee saw him, he looked like he was about to faint, and Juuzou just laughed. If it were too long and too loud, what was the harm? If he took some of his antidepressants that he stockpiled because Seidou didn’t seem to understand that cheeking was a thing, who gave a fuck? Maybe Shinohara, but currently, Juuzou certainly didn’t. The dance was fun, even if he couldn’t spike the punch, but a few more of the pills he snuck out with him helped make up for the lack of liquor in the punch. Even if he could only dance with Hanbee, everyone else giving him looks because he was in a dress, he didn’t give even half a shit.

Of course, nothing good lasted. It was just as Juuzou got the idea to yank Hanbee down and kiss him, that Mado ended everything. Well, so much for having some fun. Not caring that he’d just kissed his only friend and then left him hanging, Juuzou made his way over to his RAs, skipping and humming despite the chaos. Everything was funny, after all. Clinging to Seidou while giggling manically seemed the right thing to do, especially while demanding to know what happened. Seeing Seidou flinch just made Juuzou laugh harder. Did he care what was going on? Not really; it was just hilarious to see people panicking.

As per usual, he didn’t sleep, spending the night wired and starting several different sketches. In the morning, he returned Shinohara’s wife’s dress and shoes, before helping with the breakfast. Hearing the way people were whispering made him want to burn their food – and the debacle with Kanae gave him the perfect opportunity. Even Seidou barking at him like an angry dog couldn’t stop Juuzou’s giggles. Actually, nothing probably could. Was Seidou’s face turning red, or purple? What did it matter? _What the duck did it matter??_ He was laughing, and he couldn’t stop. He laughed and laughed and laughed. He laughed until he couldn’t anymore, but still kept laughing.

He laughed until the laughter turned to tears. He laughed and cried at the same time. Suddenly Shinohara was there, looking worried, and the laughter just wouldn’t stop. Vaguely, Juuzou heard Shinohara ask if he’d been taking his medications, and the laughter turned into shrill giggles. Seidou spluttered that _of course_ he had – but abruptly, he didn’t seem so sure, and that was just even funnier. Juuzou realized he blacked out for a minute, or more like an hour because the next thing he really knew, he was in the nurse’s station. He never breathed a word about being off his meds, of self-medicating, but it was apparently obvious to Banjou and Shinohara by the sad looks they were giving him.

Eventually, however, the high faded, the mania receded, and all Juuzou was, was tired.


	3. Lose Your Mind, Lose It Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starts off fairly close after the end of chapter two, and covers up until the end of the first scene of chapter 27 (Public Enemies) of Forgotten. In the interest of full disclosure, Juuzou's side affects come solely from the Lithium. I myself take Seroquel (antipsychotic) and Amitriptyline (antidepressant) and haven't yet experienced any side affects after almost three years, so I can only write about what I've heard from Lithium. Also, Juuzou just wants a reason not to take them.
> 
> Side note: This is shorter than my usual, but didn't want to push it. I have something... _special_ planned for chapter four~

For a time, he’s medicated, but good never lasts.

For a few days, perhaps ten days, the Lithium, Amitriptyline, and Seroquel work rather well. He’s calmer, and the world speeds up as his mind slows down, and they eventually meet in the middle. The kiss isn’t something he and Hanbee have talked about, yet, but it’s fine, they have more important things to talk about. (Hanbee cries when Juuzou explains what Bipolar I Disorder is, what it means, and that he’s honestly not likely to stay medicated for very long.) Of course, nothing good ever lasts in his life, and one morning nearly two weeks after the dance and what happened after, that becomes a stark reality. The tremors in his hands have started again, along with the nausea, so that even if he were hungry, food would make him sick. However, Fate decides to throw him a bone, in that Shinohara’s delegated his medications back to Seidou – though God alone knows why – and he can hide the pills even easier now, since Seidou seems to be distracted often.

Planning things with Mutsuki, Urie, and Ayato is fun, and breaks up the monotony. It also gives him a ‘reason’ to go off his meds, other than it’s easier and he prefers it that way. Though, after everything’s said and done, being confined to the dorm for a while is supremely annoying. It also makes cheeking his meds and saving them to have fun with later that much harder, even if only for the reason that Shinohara keeps an eye on him… But, it does have to be said that with everything else going on (not the least being Juuzou’s lack of interest in food, sweet or otherwise), the dorm parent that’s basically his adoptive father isn’t paying too close attention. And then everything happens with Arima, and Kaneki disappears, and everything goes to shit. (Juuzou quickly decides that he’s not manic enough to deal with this shit and takes four of his antidepressant to deal with it.)

If he appears grey against his white hair and red stitches, then it’s simple enough to blame lack of sleep and lack of interest in food. Better than to blame the one thing that really makes him feel like he’s alive. Better than to blame the hot feeling rising up and threatening to choke him. Because that feels too much like betrayal, and how can he feel betrayal when – Ayato breaks into his thoughts, and Juuzou’s really had enough of this bullshit. And then his mouth runs faster than his brain, which is already running faster than reality, and he’s spewing out things that he never wanted to tell anyone, save for perhaps that woman with dark hair and violet eyes. _He was the only student at this fucking school who never looked at me with disgust. He – if he did this –_ Ayato’s face colors with rage, but neither of them get any further.

"Well, we were all wrong," interrupts Hanbee.

And even when Juuzou rounds on him, his perhaps only friend, Hanbee keeps talking. Sweet, desperate, naïve, anxious, _wonderful_ Hanbee doesn’t quail under narrowed red eyes that promise pain. Not even as Juuzou can feel Ayato praying that he doesn’t go of the rails again. Hanbee keeps going, about how they were wrong to look at him with anything other than acceptance. And then, as Juuzou can scarcely believe it, Nakarai, and Tamaki, and Mikage join in. Heat steals up to his cheeks, a feeling that’s become so foreign that he can’t remember the last time he blushed. Perhaps it was years ago, when the woman that comes to mind when he thinks therapist called him pretty and sincerely meant it, without any sort of connection at all to Rei. _Genderfluidity is completely valid, Juuzou._ But none of that matters because, even though Hanbee _knows_ – knows more than anyone has in _years_ – he’s still here.

Ultimately, all he can do is stutter one word, aware of how pitiful it is.

"Th-thanks."


	4. When the Dark of the Night Comes Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I had something special coming~ XD This chapter takes place closely after chapter one, and almost exactly a year after chapter two. Specific warning for a suicide attempt in this chapter.

Skittles, Juuzou mused, were like medication.

Cheeking skittles was just as easy as cheeking pills, and served a similar purpose. Not eating and not taking meds was too damn easy, and if he weren’t already nearly constantly nauseous, it’d have made Juuzou sick. Of course, despite this, there was also an edge of sick _amusement_ in it, too. Over the years, it had become sort of like a game. How long could he go, before he was discovered? What sort of tricks would he come up with to prolong his time not spent on medication? What of them would be discovered, and what would he keep to himself to use another day? How would it happen? Would he have any say in it? Or, if none of the above happened, would it finally result in his death?

Sometimes, that was the last thing he wanted. That was usually when he was actually _taking_ his medications, during the time before he once again decided that the side effects were complete bullshit and not worth the stability. Usually, that decision was motivated by perfectly logical and sound things. His relationships with his boyfriend Hanbee, his pseudo-adopted parents Shinohara Yukinori and his wife, his friends Nakarai, Tamaki, and Mikage, and his pseudo-adopted siblings, Shinohara’s biological children. His fairly steady and good grades. His other friends in the current and previous senior classes from Re. All of these were good reasons and more for him to decide that death was the last thing he wanted, and maybe, just maybe, the meds would be different this time.

Inevitably, however, the medications always affected him. His hands started shaking quicker and quicker each time. Nausea – outright _vomiting_ haunted him sooner and sooner. Perpetual tiredness combined with an inability to sleep had begun to plague him when on his medications, as well. Saying anything to his psychiatrist was only a good idea in the first few days, and quickly became abhorrent. With Furuta in jail and Arima now both the acting dean and school psychiatrist, it wasn’t implausible that some cases had been outsourced. Juuzou’s case had been one of them, but he had gotten lucky. If what Shinohara had said were true, Dr. Tomoe Hotaru had _jumped_ at the chance to work with him again. Apparently, the dark-haired and violet-eyed woman had missed him in the years since they had been separated by his being sent to Re Academy. She had been his psychiatrist while he had adjusted to society, the only one he had ever made any sort of progress with, and the one who had diagnosed him Bipolar I in the first place.

She was also the first person to tell him he was pretty without meaning Rei or to be mocking. So, no, telling Hotaru anything beyond those first days was out. After all, he was still unsure if he could really trust her, completely ignoring the voice in is head that said that was the paranoia, the delusions, the _mania_ talking. The voice was easy to silence, especially when there were so many _other_ ones to listen to. Other ones that presented so many more convincing arguments. Why he should steal a knife, slice open his wrists and just bleed out. Why taking all of his meds with a bottle of vodka was a wonderful idea. Why everyone would be better without him. Why death was everything he deserved and more. Really, why should he keep putting anyone through all of this crap? He didn’t have any desire for the bullshit that came with medications – and, by extension, sanity – and being unmedicated was taking a toll on those that he loved. So, really, there was always only ever one choice to be made.

The dance had been easy so slip away from, even though he had told Hanbee he would be in the bathroom. This year, he’d opted for a red dress instead of blue, knowing that it would suit his purposes better. Mind made up, Juuzou had climbed the stairs up to the highest roof adjacent to the gym. He’d already set everything up, having taken a few handfuls of his medications half an hour ago, and he could down a bottle of strawberry vodka like nobody’s business. It made his coordination shaky, but he was nothing if not determined, and so he had stuck it out. As he teetered toward the edge, Juuzou’s sentimental mind decided that memories were a good idea. He was alone, staring over the ledge, trying his best not to forget all manner of joy, all manner of glee, and their one heroic pledge. How it mattered to them, how it mattered to him, and the consequences. He found himself looking down, and then suddenly he was plunging toward the ground. If only he knew how to fly, then he could convince himself that it wasn’t his time to die –

Someone screamed his name – Hanbee? – as he hit the ground.

* * *

As it turned out, he had not, in fact, hit the ground.

Hanbee _had_ been the one that screamed, while Nakarai had caught him and essentially broken his fall. Meanwhile, Tamaki and Mikage – much as they were doing now – were watching in silent horror as everything about their friend group melted down around them. With the dawning of the next day, Juuzou had woken in the hospital to find his boyfriend and their three friends in varying states of livid rage. Well, _Nakarai_ was livid with rage; Hanbee was just sobbing, apparently attempting to cry out his own body weight in tears, if he hadn’t already. Of course, once red eyes had been clear and remained open for more than a few seconds, the blonde had proceeded to give the most petite male of their group a tongue lashing he wasn’t soon to forget. Especially given that it had been outright _screamed_ in his face.

"Is everything that comes out of your mouth a fucking _lie_ , Juuzou?! _I’m fine_. _I’m seeing my psychiatrist_. _I’m feeling better_. _I’m eating_. Has any of it ever been true? Or are you just hiding because you’re too much of a fucking coward to face your own mistakes and clean up your own messes?! Well, you know what? Kill the fucking act! You make me sick with all the lies that you spill! And when you slip and fall, I'll watch you drown in all the lies that you spill! Or maybe, for just one fucking moment, we’ll all stand enthralled by this fucking curtain call, isn’t that what you wanted?! Stop and take a fucking look at everyone that cares about you! We’re all willing to fight for you, and you – you just don’t even fucking try! You lie to us and ruin your own fucking life like our feelings and how much we care doesn’t matter to you! Well, you know what?! If it doesn’t fucking matter to you – then just say so, and I’ll _gladly_ cut you out of my life!"

It was a testament to the fact that the group felt the same, when Hanbee didn’t immediately jump to Juuzou’s defense or attempt to fight off the blonde’s accusations and verbal daggers on behalf of his boyfriend. For a moment, all that could be heard in the room was silence. Silence, and the beeping of the heart monitor Juuzou was hooked up to. Silence, and Nakarai’s heavy breathing. Silence, and Hanbee’s sobs. Silence, and yet so much sound. After a moment that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, Juuzou finally looked up, locking eyes not with his boyfriend, but with the blonde. However, when he did finally speak, it was clear he meant his words for all four of them.

"I can't quite contain or describe why I do what I do, or explain why I'm not sane… All I can say is, this is your warning."

Surprisingly, it was Hanbee that cut in, voice colder than any of them had ever heard it, and certainly colder than Juuzou had ever heard it. "Just tell them what you told me last year, Juuzou… and for the love of God, _please_ be honest and sincere. You’re hanging by a _thread_ , and I think you know that."

Still unable to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, Juuzou did the best he could, for once not caring if it came out broken and in pieces. It seemed that, for once, he was actively fighting back against his own mind. "…I’m sure most of you know the basics of what Bipolar Disorder is. I have a form of Bipolar referred to as Bipolar I, where I’m nearly always manic – in an elevated state of mood to the point that I’m recklessly suicidal and don’t care about anyone or anything that might be collateral damage – but I do have periods of depression as well, they just… usually manifest in irritability and a lack of interest in anything. Mania frequently comes with delusions, which in my case are that everyone’s out to get me, even if I know for a fact that they care. I’ve always hated my medications, mainly because the side effects – tremors in my hands, nausea and vomiting, increased tiredness without being able to sleep – tend to make being off them seem like a better deal, even if I know it’s not…

"But I’ve also hated them because they reminded me of the one other adult that never looked at me with disgust, or like I was some sort of abomination. She – Dr. Tomoe Hotaru, my psychiatrist – was the one to diagnose me in the first place, and the one who oversaw my… rehabilitation and socialization, I guess you could call it, after I was rescued from Mama. She was like… my first friend, or an older sister, or something, and I… It took me a long time to realize that it felt like she’d betrayed me, letting the Rotten Fruit take over my case and I… I wanted to throw it all back in her face, even while simultaneously never letting her see anything was wrong. It was my twisted way of getting back at her, my own twisted game of _how can I make Hotaru hurt as much as she made me hurt_ … It drove a lot of my actions, and it ended up hurting you, and Shinohara, and all my other friends, but I was just too stubborn to see it until I finally realized that you’d all be better off without me and – "

Hanbee cut him off with a finger to his lips, wiping away tears he hadn’t even known he was crying.

"That’s enough, Juuzou," he murmured, all prior coldness gone and replaced with his usual warmth and love. "That’s enough, for now. I think they finally understand, sweetheart."

A hush that wasn’t quite a calm fell over the hospital room, but it wasn’t tense the way it was before.

(And if Shinohara had been listening outside the entire time… well. He couldn’t have been prouder.)


	5. It's a Hole in the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during the beginning scene(s) of chapter 5 (Live Up) of The Forgotten. Apologies for how short it is, but I wanted another chapter during Forgotten's story arc before I continued with more of the next year. It also provides a nice counterpoint, I think, but make of it what you will. Also, the next one's gonna be a doozy, so watch your step when it comes along.

Science and Juuzou had never been on good terms.

Actually, _any_ subject that couldn’t really be picked up at any point didn’t get along with Juuzou. That was mostly due to his lack of prior education – the occasional picture book about animals and/or drawing not withstanding – but could also be traced back to the fact that his brain was almost in constant motion, so things like needing to be methodical and careful and precise… didn’t really compute. Not outside of a fight, at least, and that wasn’t going to help him deal with Tatara’s being a sadist any time soon. Despite this, though, there was usually an upside. That upside was the fact that when he was manic he gave even less of a shit than usual, and could ignore everyone and everything around him for as long as he wanted. When he was actually on his medications, however, that upside vanished like so much mist in the sun. And because Fate wanted him to be her bitch, today happened to be one of the latter type of days.

It wasn’t the first class of the year, so cluelessness shouldn’t have surprised anyone by now, but it certainly annoyed Juuzou. Not being clueless, that he actually had to endure a lecture or whatever other form of torture the vicious chemistry teacher could come up with. Juuzou ended up in class early because he really didn’t have anything else to do (thank whatever God there was for random free periods), and open windows were _always_ an invitation he would take. Settling astride the wide windowsill, he pulled his right leg up to his chest to rest his chin on his knee, while his left leg as left to dangle out into the open air. He could hear other students arriving, most talking about how partners would be assigned that day, but tuned them out. He didn’t need to hear them whispering about him, he already knew what they were saying; the voices in his head said the same things, after all. Three, maybe four stories high… jumping would land him in the hospital, and if he landed _just_ right…

When Tatara arrived, Juuzou sneered but got down as asked; no need to deal with getting in trouble. Being medicated again after a summer without was sucking hard enough without adding more stupidity to it. For all of two minutes, it was amusing to listen to the speculation of some of the kids from his dorm about the teachers' love lives, before Juuzou got bored and tuned them out again. The tremors were starting to come back to his hands, he noticed as he reluctantly pulled out a notebook and pen. Maybe it would pay to start screwing with Seidou… the pompous, self-absorbed asshole would deserve it, and he wanted to have the meds out of his system before the nausea kicked in. Abso-fucking-lutely fuck the very _idea_ of dealing with the bullshit that was Lithium and school at at same time. Fuck it with a rusty pitchfork. Tatatra’s reaction to the gossip provided a moment of amusement, before he ordered that they pick a partner within five minutes. The last thing Juuzou expected was to be approached.

If nothing else, Abara Hanbee might be an amusing diversion from his suicidality.


	6. A Filthy Hot Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you this one would be a doozy. Waning for non-consensual kissing/touching, Nakarai's mouth, and violence. Takes place between chapter one and chapter four.

Juuzou had no idea how he’d made it back to campus.

After spending hours away right under Mado’s nose, there was – as Hanbee sometimes put it – enough alcohol and illicit substances (prescription and otherwise) in his system to knock out an elephant. How he was still standing, let alone able to get back onto campus was anyone’s guess, but Juuzou himself would have put it down to sheer stubbornness. Everything felt both far away and yet immediately present. His limbs felt asleep and yet as if all his nerve endings were hyperaware. Things were fuzzy and yet hilarious in the same moment. Sneaking back in was harder when you were alone… and when you were tiny. Maybe he should’ve invited Hanbee along, again, even if his boyfriend would probably have wasted no time in getting him to the hospital or Shinohara… Blinking, Juuzou realized that his thoughts must have been controlling his autopilot, since he found himself outside the back of Dorm Black 11 rather than Dorm Block 20. Damnit, how was he supposed to get back undetected _now_?!

"— the _fuck_ are you doing out here?"

Juuzou’s head snapped up fast enough to crack his neck, grinning wide when he saw it was Nakarai.

"… _Shit_ , you’re fucking _trashed_ , aren’t you?" Was it that obvious? An unhinged giggle probably confirmed it for the blonde. Shaking his head, Nakarai jumped out of his second story window, landing in a crouch that spoke of athleticism. Straightening up, he moved over to Juuzou, frowning.

"You’re like a fucking _kitten_ when you’re like this, lost and stupidly adorable… Where the fuck’s Abara? Damn giant _weakling_ should be the one here with you, _God_ what a shit boyfriend he is…" As he spoke – well, as he _ranted_ – the blonde slung one of Juuzou’s arms over his shoulders, making sure the more petit seventeen-year-old didn’t fall as they started making their way back toward Dorm Block 20. Juuzou felt his lips moving, but couldn’t be sure if he were actually talking about something, or jut rambling about absolutely nothing. Either way, Nakarai didn’t seem to mind… actually, was he _blushing_? What the Hell?

Yanking them to a stop, something the blonde apparently hadn’t anticipated, Juuzou swung himself around to face the slightly taller boy. Wide red eyes searched Nakarai’s expression closely and – _yep_ , that was a blush. Cocking his head to the side, Juuzou questioned, voice surprisingly only slightly slurred, "…Why’re you blushing, Nakarai?"

For a moment, during which the blush brightened, Nakarai didn’t reply. Then everything came out like a dam breaking. "You… You’re sweet, and funny, and different. You deserve someone who can stand beside you, someone who’s sure on their own two feet, without you always needing to help them. You deserve someone who puts what you want first, not what they think you need… Abara’s a damn _baby_ , scared by shadows and crying the minute anything gets serious. You don’t _need_ someone like that, you don’t _deserve_ someone like that!"

As he rambled, Nakarai had closed the little distance between them, gripping Juuzou’s waist and pulling him close. Juuzou was reminded of the way some of his aunts were man-handled by their clients, and had a sickening suspicion that he knew where this was going –

“You deserve someone like me!”

– _fuck_ he hated being right, sometimes.

If the cold pit opening in his stomach didn’t sober him up, Nakarai's yanking him close to _kiss_ him did.

Reacting without thought, Juuzou shoved the blonde away, following up with a surprisingly well-aimed and powerful right hook. Blood spurted, and Nakarai howled, crumpling to the ground. Suddenly, Juuzou didn’t give two shits that they were in the middle of campus, and that they could be caught at any moment. None of that mattered. What did, was that one of his _best friends_ had just _kissed_ him, and had _apparently_ had feelings for him for quite awhile now. _Fuck_ if he wasn’t a blind _idiot_ for not having seen that this was why Nakarai hated Hanbee so much. Fuck absolutely _everything_.

"I’m not yours to kiss, _Keijin_ ," he growled, spitting Nakarai’s name, "nor will I _ever_ be."

Then he turned and bolted for Dorm Block 20. The next morning, Juuzou woke to a hangover, bruised and bleeding knuckles, a pissed-off Ayato, and a revelation:

If not even mania could make him consider anyone else, then he’d fallen _hard_ for Hanbee.

...Not that he was complaining, of course.


End file.
